The other movie I saw this weekend was Woody Allen’s newest, “Anything Else.” I don’t expect much from Woody’s movies anymore, but I still see them, for the same reason you might visit an elderly relative: you’re doing it out of obligation, and it’s not going to be totally pleasant, but there’s still something comforting in the familiar, musty atmosphere.

True to expectation, it was pretty mediocre. The plot was sketchy at best. The dialogue was unnatural, and Woody can’t act anymore. Jason Biggs is totally cute, but he couldn’t prevail over his stilted lines, and he seemed to have adopted Woody’s stammering, stuttering persona; too much of that in one movie is annoying. And the characters are totally unrealistic; Woody knows nothing about young people today. I was really looking forward to Stockard Channing, but she’s wasted in this movie. I think she’d be perfect playing opposite Woody as his vindictive ex-wife or something, but that wasn’t her role. (She did have one of the film’s best lines, though: “We just saw Elaine Stritch on Broadway. She was wonderful. Want some cocaine?”) There’s also way too much narration, which violates the first rule of movies: show, don’t tell. There are several moments when a character narrates something that’s happening right there on the screen. It’s totally unnecessary, and again, annoying.

These days, Woody just churns out movie after movie, one per year, without taking the time to make them as good as they could be. I don’t know if he has anything relevant left to say — he seems stuck in a time warp. At the same time, I kind of respect the guy, because at least he’s doing it. Better to write something than nothing. I’m inspired by his prolific output. I once talked with my therapist about my fears that what I write might be crap. I said that there were so many bad movies out there. She said something like, “So why are other people allowed to write bad movies and you’re not?” And she’s right. There are some deeply flawed attempts at art out there, but at least people are creating them.

It makes me want to start another screenplay. And also try harder to sell the one I’ve written.